The Release of the Captain
by Olivia52
Summary: Natasha brings Steve home from the hospital after the events of the end of CATWS.


Natasha walked down the halls-Revised 11/18/14

Natasha walked down the halls of the hospital. It was noisy and congested, nurses darting from room to room, signing charts and checking on the patients behind the closed doors. As she neared Steve's room, the armed guards that had been assigned since he had been found on the banks of the Potomac, were still standing vigilantly outside his door. He was in no condition to defend himself from anyone.

She heard a woman's voice trying to stay calm and patient and yet becoming more agitated. "Captain Rogers, there is no way you can leave the hospital so soon." Her voice sounded weary as if she had said this over and over. Natasha walked in after showing her ID to the guard.

"Trying to break out, Rogers?" She laughed as she said this. His face was still bruised and swollen. Several stitches, above his eye and on his cheek were evident. His left eye was nearly swollen shut. Those were just the injuries she could see. She knew he had been shot three times and stabbed not to mention beaten most all over his body. He was sitting up, in the process of taking out his own IV.

"I'm feeling better. I need to get out of here." The nurse was trying to prevent him from removing the IV but his movements were much quicker than hers even in his damaged state.

"Captain Rogers, please. Just a few more days and the doctor will feel better about releasing you. You still have some infection, your wounds are just starting to knit together and there are still some internal injuries that need to be monitored." She was trying to restrain him, which of course was futile.

"Hey Steve, be a gentleman here. The lady is trying to help you." Natasha smiled as she said it trying to appeal to his 1940 manners. She stepped beside his bed and touched his arm. He succeeded in ripping out the IV and handed it to the nurse.

"Sir," the nurse threw the IV in the trash and reached for a new IV kit. "You must keep this in. Your antibiotic is in it along with some pain meds."

He turned to look at her and smiled his dashing smile that he had had no idea took the breath from every female he met, "Thank you for your advice ma'am, the pain meds don't work on me and I am sure there is a pill I can take for an antibiotic. Can you tell me where my clothes are and give a man some privacy?"

Natasha smiled sympathetically at the young nurse and then gently turned Steve's bruised face towards her. "Steve, just a few more days. I will bring you good food not hospital food," she sheepishly looked towards the nurse, "And I'm sure we can find some movie you have not yet caught up on. Humor us a bit huh?"

Steve gently removed her hand from his face. Keeping it held firmly within his own. "Natasha, if I don't get out of here, I will lose my mind. Please. Please get me out of here." He sounded like a begging child and she couldn't help but smile.

Natasha turned to the helpless nurse, "If you release him into my care with a promise I will keep a very close eye on him," she quickly looked to Steve with a reproving glare and then back to the nurse, smiling, "can he get an early check out time?"

"Dr. Livingston would really like him to stay for observation a few more days. His temperature spiked again last night so we know he still has an infection and some of his internal injuries are quite concerning, not to mention all the sutures and a bruised kidney,..." her list was bound to go on and on until Natasha intervened.

"Yes, he is humpty dumpty but he might be a bit more manageable at home." She was trying her diplomacy and her sweet negotiating side and even Steve had to smile a bit at her tactics.

"The fear of him leaving the hospital would be to over do it and cause more damage and the risk of more infection. Leaving here is not advisable right now." The nurse seemed so earnest and worried.

Natasha looked at her name tag and smiled, "Karen, you and I both know that this man is a bit stronger than both of us and I have a feeling one way or another he is leaving your fine hospital today. Release him to me and the responsibility will be off of you and your hospital. I can manage the captain and he will be in very good hands." Natasha smiled sweetly and then began going through the cupboards looking for his clothes. She turned back to the confused and frustrated nurse, "his clothes?"

"He was brought in in his uniform and we cut it off of him." She put her hands on her hips as if this would end the argument. Steve let out a small groan of exasperation and started tugging at the monitors connected to his chest. Natasha reached over and put her hand on his chest, stopping his movement and yet still looking at the nurse, "Karen, would you kindly find me a pair of scrubs that Captain Rogers can wear home?" She smiled and then turned back to Steve, still addressing Karen, "Thank you so very much for your help".

The nurse left obviously upset and Steve took that as a sign to remove the rest of his tubes and monitors. Natasha grabbed his hand. "Ok, big boy, I am busting you out of here, so now you are playing by my rules. Let a nurse take those things out or you will damage something else."

"I don't play by anyone's rules but my own and I can take these stupid things out on my own." Natasha sat on the side of his bed, folding her arms and looking stern.

"You can play by my rules or you can be restrained and stay here for several more day, your choice Cap. My way or you stay." Her look was stern but had a hint of humor in her eyes.

He stopped his tugging and laid his head back on the pillow obviously tired, "Ok. Thanks. I need to get out of here." His small amount of activity had made him weak and perspiration was obvious on his forehead.

Natasha reached up to touch his cheek. "Your still kind of warm, maybe getting you out of here is a bad idea." She pulled the covers up a bit on him but he grabbed her hand.

"Please Nat, get me out of here." Although weary he did look a bit desperate. "OK. But I'm serious, you are to behave yourself and rest at home. Deal?" He smiled weakly and nodded, "Yes Ma'am".

The nurse walked in carrying folded, navy blue scrubs. Looking defeated and a bit angry. "I still don't approve." She sat the clothes on the counter by the bed and after putting on fresh gloves, began gently removing the tubes and monitors. She finished without saying a word and after shooting him one more disapproving glare she walked out.

Steve began removing the sheet from him and then stopped. "Umm, do you mind stepping out please?"

"Do you need help?" She put the scrubs on the foot of the bed and stood pulling the sheet down.

Steve quickly grabbed it and said, "No. I've got it. I will let you know when I am ready."

Natasha had to grin at him, "Steve, I have seen a naked man before, I won't be shocked."

"I'm fine. I can manage. If I need help, I will yell." He gave he a dismissive wave with one hand and kept the hand firmly on his sheet.

Finally the doctor released him and once he was in the passenger seat of her car he seemed happier. He looked tired and pale but more content.

She zipped through traffic arriving at his apartment. "I assume this place has an elevator because aren't you three stories up?" She opened her door and made it to

his door before he had one leg out. He gingerly unfolded his body from the small car.

"It's broke. I'm good. Got to get my strength back." After a good twenty minutes and several stops and out of breath moments, they finally reached the door to his room. Natasha unlocked the door and reached in to turn on a light. Steve limped into the room and slumped onto the sofa putting his head back. He was very ashen and his breathing was heavy.

"Yeah, not so sure, that was a great idea." She touched his forehead again and then went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Drink up." He drank long from the water bottle and then put his head back again. "Are you hungry?" Natasha reached for a pillow. "Want to lay down?"

"I'm fine. Just catching my breath for a minute."

She went to his fridge seeing what he had. Not much. There was a carton of eggs. "Lucky for you, I can scramble eggs." And then under her breath, "I think."

By the time she got back with a couple plates of steaming hot scrambled eggs Steve was sound asleep. She quietly ate her eggs and put his in the fridge and wandered around the while he slept. He had a large collection of book on a shelf, "All the Presidents Men", "Killer Angels", and an assortment of other historical military and political books. He had a small collection of old vinyl records. Vintage. Big Band genre mostly. She pulled a book from his shelf that looked very old and weathered. Inside were a few very old photographs. A photo of a small young man, with a woman. Underneath were the words, "Steve and mom". Natasha knew the story of Steve's transformation from scrawny young man to super soldier but had never seen pictures. There was a picture of Steve and Bucky together, arms around each other, smiling. Natasha hadn't ever seen Steve smile like that. It was a smile of a carefree man, with a world of possibility before him. She turned on a small lamp by an oversized chair and sank into the chair, looking carefully at each photograph carefully placed in the book. There weren't many, but you could see they were treasured. She wondered how he had gotten them since coming back 70 years later. Looking at the few pictures carefully placed in the book she was hit with the reality that Steve truly was a man without a time. He had a life in the 1940's. Family, friends, a sense of belonging. He fit in a time of good manners, patriotism, honesty, a world of black and white and moral values. He was thrown into a new world where he no longer fit and yet was expected to jump right in and soldier on. A sadness swept over her as she looked at the old faded pictures, all he had left of his former life. She put the album back and reached for a sketch book that had been tossed on the lamp table. Pencil drawings of a variety of things, from buildings in New York and DC to detailed sketches of snippets from his past. The drawings were detailed and amazing. She had no idea Steve could draw.

She was taken out of her revere by Steve starting to get up. He grimaced and twisted as he sat up on the sofa.

"Where do you think your going?" She stood quickly and rushed to his side, remembering the unsteadiness of him after getting into the apartment.

"Stiff. I need to move a bit. Sorry I fell asleep." He put his feet on the floor and took a deep breath before standing. He moved slow and sucked in his breath in obvious pain. Natasha stood close but didn't touch him. She knew how independent he was. He walked to wards to bathroom.

"Do you need help?"

"Not since I was two." He said under his breath and shut the door. A while later he came out with a clean t-shirt and sweats on, smelling of soap.

"Saved you some eggs. Want to eat?" She watched him slowly move towards the sofa. He limped a bit and seemed exhausted.

"Not hungry, but thanks. Hey, thanks for getting me out of there. I owe you." He smiled at her and she thought of the smiling young man in the photograph and realized his smiles never quite reached his eyes. He eased himself back onto the sofa and stretched his long legs in front of him.

"Just paying you back Rogers. I think you saved my butt more than once." She was sincere. He had been a great partner the past year whenever they had been paired up for a mission. "You know I never think of you as 95 but tonight I see the age." She laughed softly.

"Its not the years it's the mileage." He quipped and he looked up at her briefly before putting his head back again.

"Ah, so you got through some Raiders of the Lost Ark movies I see. Which was your favorite?" She tucked her legs underneath her and sat back on the sofa next to him.

"Umm, first one." His voice was soft. She had to strain to hear him. She moved closer and touched his forehead.

"Your really warm. Steve, maybe that IV antibiotic wasn't such a bad idea." Worry creased her brow.

"You were easier to deal with when you neglected me." He smiled without opening his eyes.

Natasha pulled out the list the nurse sent home with them. "It the fever gets above 102 I am taking you back. I need to check your wounds for infection and redress them." She began pulling out gauze, tape, ointments and sterile instruments.

"I'm fine. I am not comfortable with you hovering. Hovering doesn't work well on you." He tried to look stern but he was obviously amused by this side of Natasha that he had never seen.

"Rogers, I am not going to jump your bones, take off your damn shirt and let me check the wounds." She moved closer ready to do it herself if necessary.

Slowly, painfully he took off the t-shirt. His torso was covered in bruises, scrapes and bandages. A bullet wound to his left side and a stab wound on his right shoulder, a large bandage covered his abdomen where he had been shot as well.

She stared wide eyed and all his injuries. "Is there one place on you that isn't cut, bruised or has a gaping hole in it?" She wasn't sure where to start in tending to his wounds.

"Oddly enough my feet are in darn good shape." He smiled and winced slightly as she started removing the bandage on his shoulder.

"I thought that colorful suit you wear was suppose to protect you." She was starting to dab at the stitches and wound with medicine. "What shape is Bucky in?" She didn't want to meet his eyes and see the pain so she kept her eyes focused on putting medicine on the wounds and bandaging them.

"Better, I hope." He grimaced not in physical pain but the pain of remembering the cold, blank eyes of Bucky. Even after he had freed Bucky from the metal girder, he had come at Steve which rage and hatred.

Natasha sat back to cut more gauze and looked him in the eye. "Did you let him do this? Did you fight back?"

"I fought long enough to get the disk in." His voice was soft, tired.

"It sort of looks like you gave up. Did you?" Her voice was compassionate and concerned. "Did you have any intent to get off that helicarrier alive?"

He didn't answer her, just kept his eyes closed. He had given up. He had accomplished his mission. He had stopped Hydra. He had brought down Shield. He knew he couldn't kill his best friend. He didn't seem to fit anywhere in this new world. He couldn't reconcile how a man he had loved more than a brother had a mission to kill him. He had failed Bucky. He had watched him fall from the train and he had been taken and brainwashed. The guilt was too much. He should have saved Bucky. It was his fault that Bucky was now a trained killer with no idea who he

really was. He opened his eyes and looked at her, he tried to lighten his mood and steer her away from Bucky, "Maybe he is just fights better. I'm not suicidal Agent Romanoff." He tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

"It looks like you are." She said it so quietly she didn't think Steve would hear her. Then a bit louder, "How did you get on the banks of the Potomac?" She set to work removing the dressings from his stomach.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I remember falling, when I hit the water it eased the burning." He looked at his stomach where her hands were gently putting medicine around the stitches. "The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital room. How long was I out?"

"About 36 hours, a surgery, several stitches..."

He cut her off, "I think I know the rest."

She smiled, "Ok, now what about this face?" She began applying medicine to the cuts and over the stitches. He didn't flinch when she touched the tender skin. He had his eyes closed and seemed to be somewhere else. "Ok, now the thigh..."

His eyes popped open. "I can check that one."

"Rogers, we have been over this. I am here to take care of you, doctors orders, or you go back to the hospital."

"You are doing a great job, Clara Barton, but I can manage on my own I think." He sat up straighter putting space between them.

"Good Lord Rogers, you are acting like a perfect prude." She laughed but looked stern and a bit perturbed. Just then a knock came from the door. Steve reached for his t-shirt and struggled putting in back on.

Natasha went to the door, reaching for the gun on the table by the door, a voice came from the other side, Sam. "Room service. I'm starving so hurry."

Nat opened the door to smiling and relaxed Sam. One side of his face was bruised and scraped. "Hope everyone likes Thai food. Spicy!" He walked in depositing several take out sacks on the coffee table. "Did I interrupt anything?" He raised his eyebrows, smiling.

"Steve is being a very difficult patient." She jumped up to start looking through the sacks. "Smells good."

Sam got a few cold beers from the fridge and threw some paper plates on the coffee table. "So, now you can scratch Thai food off that list Cap."

Steve smiled and took the full plate Natasha handed him. The banter was comfortable. It was always comfortable with Sam. He laughed easy and put everyone at ease.

Natasha and Sam were joking and talking about various missions they had when Nat looked over at Steve. His food barely touched, he was pale. She put down her plate and felt his head. "Ok Rogers, enough, back to the hospital for you. You are burning up." She looked to Sam for some help.

"It's the way my body metabolizes since the change. I'm ok. I just need time." He pushed himself off the sofa and Sam jumped to steady him. Steve glared at both of them and moved slowly. "I got it. Not to be a rude host but I think I'll just head off to bed." He nodded to Natasha. "Thanks for getting me out. Sam the food was great."

Sam stood and nodded to Steve. "If you need anything..." "I know who to call." His voice dropped, "Thanks Sam."

Sam began clearing away the empty containers and walked them into the rubbish bin in the kitchen.

"Thanks again Natasha for busting me out and being a darn good nurse." Natasha made no attempt to move. "I promise to call you tomorrow."

"I am sleeping on your sofa tonight Rogers and that is the end of it, so do whatever you want to get ready for bed, I am here. I can sing you a lullaby if you want but most people ask me not to sing. Up to you." She smiled sarcastically and went about cleaning up plates and putting things in the trash.

"I'm really okay Natasha. I don't need a baby sitter. I am sure you need a good nights sleep in your own bed as well, so we can call it a night." He smiled and tried not to look as tired and weak as he felt.

"Tell you what, if you can physically throw me out of the door then I will leave, until then, I am going to stay here and make sure you are okay. Fair?" She went about straightening the room and grabbing a throw blanket that was on the back of a chair.

Steve looked irritated along with being weak and tired. "Natasha, I am not up to a battle but I really am fine. I will call you if I need you."

"Yeah, see Rogers, your track record for that really sucks so I am here. You can be as grumpy as you want but I am staying." She plumped a pillow and spread out the throw.

"I'm not letting you sleep on my sofa. If you stay you take the bed. No self respecting man would let a woman sleep on the sofa."

She grinned, "Chivalry is not dead but it is weak, feverish and you look like hell so off to bed for you or do you need help getting ready." The last part was part teasing, part serious.

Steve stood firm not happy with the situation. He felt so tired however that he finally gave in. "There are extra pillows and blankets in the cupboard in the hallway."

His bedroom door shut and Natasha turned off one of the lamps as Sam walked back into the room. "So do we take him back to the hospital or will it really just burn out because of how he is now?"

"I have no idea. I am not a great nurse to anyone and then I get to watch over this guy who does everything strange." She smiled, but worry creased her brow.

"He's important to you." It was a statement. Not accusing, not questioning, simply stating a fact.

"He's a friend. I don't have many of those. He's the most decent man I have ever met. He knows my past, he doesn't judge me. He is ...different."

"He is that!" Sam sat watching her. She was a complicated woman.

Her brows were furrowed when she looked back to Sam, "I don't think he really wanted to get off that helicarrier Sam. Have you seen him? I think he gave up and let Bucky do that to him." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, he told me he dropped his shield and told him to just finish it that he wouldn't fight him." He watched Natasha shake her head in disbelief. "I lost my best friend. He was shot down in front of me. I just watched helpless to see him drop out of the sky. I've wondered that if it were Riley and me up on that carrier fighting each other. What I would do? I can't fault Steve. There is a code between brothers, an unspoken vow. The Bucky that Steve knew would never be capable of hurting him and he probably feels that if he can't find that man, that one man that was his only link to the past, that maybe all this isn't really worth the fight. What does he have Nat? He is the loneliest man I know. He puts on a brave face and a wide smile and charges at life with full throttle and yet he comes home to this," he motioned around the sparce apartment that barely looked lived in. "He doesn't have much to want to come back to, does he? I asked him what made him happy and he had no idea. This guy is existing and that is about all."

Natasha stared at the photo albums she had found earlier. Those few, faded photographs were all he had left of a life that was once a great future. He woke up 70

years later in a world that was not even similar to the one he left. Everyone he had ever loved or cared about was dead. The clothes, the music, the news, the simple ways of communicating were all foreign to him. He had died a soldier in WW2 and woke up a mercenary in the 21st century.

Sam put his beer down and checked in on Steve. "He's out. Hot as hell but out." He walked back and sat down. "Want me to stay tonight so you can rest?"

"I think it will be alright. I will call you if I need help. You look like you could use a good nights sleep as well." Sam stood, gave her a quick side hug and walked to the door. "Take care of him." He smiled and slipped out shutting the door quietly behind him.

Natasha took a long time falling asleep. She had come to really care for Steve and that bothered her. She was not used to allowing herself to care for people. That usually made things messy. She touched the necklace she wore, a gift from Clint. She cared for him and that only complicated things. But Steve, things were different with him. He seemed her polar opposite in so many ways. She lived in various shades of gray and was comfortable there. Steve was as boy scout as they came. He walked a fine line of black and white and had little tolerance for blurred lines. And yet, as she had worked with him the past year and especially the past few days she had realized that he had become very important to her. His opinion of her mattered and that bothered her. For those many hours that no one could find him after the helicarrier had gone down, she was afraid he was dead and she would never see him again. That had really shattered her and when Fury called to say he was found and in surgery, she needed to be with him, to see for her own eyes that he was okay. As opposite as they seemed, they were very alike. Both loners. Not many friends. Trying to find where they fit in the world. Barriers firmly in place to anyone who tried to get in. Exhaustion, emotional finally won out and she fell asleep.

Steve started to thrash around, he was fighting Bucky in his dream. Dreams since he woke up after being found in the ice had been traumatic. Post war syndrome someone had termed it. But this was worse, he was now fighting the one link to his past. The one person who meant more to him than anything and had come back into his life only to come back as a man who didn't know him and wanted to kill him. In the dream, Bucky and Steve were still fighting on the carrier but this time it was Bucky falling from the sky into the water, just as he had done off the train in 1943. "NOOOO!" He cried out from his nightmare. His breathing was heavy as if he had been fighting.

Natasha raced into the room and saw him struggling and thrashing through his nightmare. She reached out and gently put her hands on his shoulders, firm, steady, "Steve, its just a dream. Steve, wake up." She touched his cheek trying to wake him,

slowly his eyes opened, he was wide eyed, he looked tortured. She could tell he was still lost in his nightmare. "Steve. It's okay. It's a dream, its over." He finally looked at her.

The shock of the nightmare was fading but still haunted him. His breathing was fast, "Natasha?"

"Yeah, its me. Its okay." She kept a hand on his cheek, which was still much too warm to the touch.

He sat up slowly, painfully. Rubbing his face with his hand. "Sorry. Sorry I woke you."

"Want to talk about it?" She was gentle, she could see how vulnerable he was right now.

He shook his head. "No. Sorry, get some sleep." He sat up further his eyes lost in the darkness.

Natasha moved to sit beside him but didn't touch him. "Our demons usually find us in our dreams. I am not a huge fan of sleeping for that reason."

He only nodded still shaken from his dream. She scooted back on the bed until her back rested against the headboard. Steve did the same.

"I guess in our line of work, we see too much, experience too much, maybe our souls are just trying to reconcile it in our dreams." She sounded tired.

"Happens to you too?" She could barely hear his voice, it was so soft. "Yeah."

He shifted and put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry." They sat there in the dark silence for a long time, she snuggled closer to him and allowed herself to be comforted by the man who also needed comfort.

"Ok. You have a couple of hours and if that fever doesn't drop, I will order Sam at gunpoint to help me take you back." She didn't look like she was joking.

Between Nat and Sam they got him into his bed and pulled the shades on the window. "I'll be back in an hour." Natasha looked worried and was getting cross.

"I'm sure you will." Steve smiled weakly.

Nat and Sam went back to the living room to clear off the plates and sat quietly in the semi darkness of the room.

"I don't think he really wanted to get off that helicarrier Sam. Have you seen him? I think he gave up and let Bucky do that to him." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, he told me he dropped his shield and told him to just finish it that he wouldn't fight him." He watched Natasha shake her head in disbelief. "I lost my best friend. He was shot down in front of me. I just watched helpless to see him drop out of the sky. I've wondered that if it were Riley and me up there fighting each other what I would do. I can't fault Steve. There is a code between brothers, an unspoken vow. The Bucky that Steve knew would never be capable of hurting him and he probably feels that if he can't find that man, that one man that was his only link to the past that maybe all this isn't really worth the fight. What does he have Nat? He is the loneliest man I know. He puts on a brave face and a wide smile and charges at life with full throttle and yet he comes home to this," he motioned around the sparsley decorated apartment that barely looked lived in. "He doesn't have much to want to come back to, does he?"

Natasha stared at the photo albums he had found earlier. Those few, faded photographs were all he had left of a life that was once a great future. He woke up 70 years later in a world that was not even similar to the one he left. Everyone he had ever loved or cared about was dead. The clothes, the music, the news, the simple ways of communicating were all foreign to him. He had died a soldier in WW2 and woke up a mercenary in the 21st century.

Sam put his beer down and checked in on Steve. "He's out. Hot as hell but out." He walked back and sat down. "So do we take him back or will it really just burn out because of how he is now?"

"I have no idea. I am not a great nurse to anyone and then I get to watch over this guy who does everything strange." She smiled, but worry creased her brow.

"He's important to you." It was a statement. Not accusing, not questioning, simply stating a fact.

"He's a friend. I don't have many of those. He's the most decent man I have ever met. He knows my past, he doesn't judge me. He is ...different."

Sam laughed. "He is that. Want me to stay tonight so you can rest?"

"I might need back up if he gets worse. Mind sleeping on the couch?" She motioned to the old sofa. "I'm going to go in with him and keep a close eye on him."

Natasha walked into the dark room, slipped off her shoes and gently laid down on the bed next to Steve. His breathing was deep and steady. She felt his forehead and he felt a bit cooler to the touch. She stretched out, sighing a bit and drifted to sleep.


End file.
